Black and Gold
by HazyDandelion
Summary: It's been years since one archangel and one demon got together. Except how does something like that even happen? The story of Gabriel's and Crowley's relationship. Rating for m/f and m/m in later chapters. GabrielxCrowley
1. Chapter 1

***Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or it's characters. I just like to make them live in my own little world.

* * *

><p><strong>Black and Gold<strong>

_Chapter One_

The world was going to hell. Crowley supposed that was the over-all idea. Being a demon, you would think he would be all for Hell on Earth but the truth was he liked things the way they were. It wouldn't be good for business if everyone was either dead or Croatoan-infected zombies and Crowley was a business man at heart. He was also a survivalist. It had taken him awhile to work his way up the ladder but in the end Crowley had wedged himself into the ideal position. If there was one thing he was good at, it was making himself indispensable. The downside was it put him in a very precarious spot. If he was found out as a traitor, the punishment would be the stuff of nightmares even for Hell. If Crowley was lucky, everyone he betrayed would be dead by the time he was exposed, including his current boss.

Lilith was sitting in front of him, holding a teddy bear and chatting away, while he brushed her hair. To an outside eye, the scene looked innocuous; perhaps a father getting his daughter ready for Sunday Mass or her first fancy party. If you looked closer, you would see there was something inherently _wrong_ about the tableau. It was like looking at a surface and knowing if you touched it your fingers would come away covered in something unpleasant. Even Crowley found something deeply unsettling about the whole thing, but necessity dictated it. He turned his attention back to the conversation at hand.

"And Ruby said that Sam is still coming to her even though his brother is back. Everything is going so well! Don't you think, Mr. Crowley?"

"Yes, love, but won't the involvement of the angels cause problems for us?"

"Don't be silly," she said with a giggle that Crowley would never admit sent a chill down his spine. "They're not going to stop us. They don't _want_ to."

"And the Winchesters?" Crowley asked, fishing.

She hugged the teddy bear to her chest and said, "Oh, they'll help more than hurt. No one will stop us."

"Hm."

Lilith eyed his reflection in the mirror and Crowley gave her his most charming smile. She returned it and he mentally chided himself to be more cautious.

"I think I want a braid. Braid my hair, please, Crowley." He knew a command when he heard one.

"With pleasure, darling," he said and began to pull her hair into a braid.

* * *

><p>Gabriel was not really pleased with the state of the world at the moment. He had known it was coming and, really, the biggest part of him just wanted to hurry up and get it done with. The problem with that was he liked the world. It was <em>fun<em>. You couldn't have fun in Heaven, let alone find a good mixed drink. And if his brother Lucifer won, it would be just as bad if not worse. So Gabriel had gotten involved in his own way which meant pestering the Winchesters. He had tried to prepare them the best he could without blowing his cover but it hadn't been enough. The end was coming and all Gabriel could do was watch it happen.

That was easier said than done.

In Heaven, Gabriel had been a bit of a problem child. If there was something to get into you could count on him getting into it. That had made him a bit of an outcast (though not as much as Lucifer, the only one Gabriel had ever really related to, had been). Leaving was one of the hardest things he had ever done but he fell easily into the role of a pagan god. He chalked it up to his natural curiosity and sense of humor. All of which made it hard to keep away from the Winchesters who were Gabriel's favorite targets.

He knew that he shouldn't, especially with the God Squad running amok, but it couldn't hurt just to keep an eye on them.

Gabriel's intentions on this one were honestly good. Later he might have considered that the road to Hell was paved with good intentions.

And he would have laughed at the irony of just how accurate that would turn out to be.

* * *

><p>Every being in Heaven and Hell knew the Winchesters. The forces of Heaven, as they were wont to do, were happy to let things unfold organically, confident in their Plan. The forces of Hell didn't mind getting their hands dirty. Much to Crowley's chagrin, the collective forces of Hell were nowhere near as organized. He had spent decades trying to incorporate some sort of structure but upper management was resistant to change. Now, all things considered, that could work to his advantage. The people who might have noticed Crowley's odd behavior were too wrapped up in their own plans to give him much thought. Besides, his reputation as Lilith's right hand man (and, if you believe the rumor mill, her lover) protected him from most scrutiny. That meant he could do a certain amount of reconnaissance on the Winchesters free from worry.<p>

Currently the Hardy Boys were investigating some sort of wish gone wrong deal. Crowley appreciated it. One thing that continued to amuse him after all the years making deals was the surprise when people found out it wasn't exactly what they bargained for. Wording was everything; it was the nature of the deal. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he watched the two brothers systematically tear apart the fountain in the Japanese restaurant. If he thought they stood a chance of preventing the seals being broken, Crowley would have tipped them off. Instead he was observing like a wolf trying to find the weakest sheep. The analogy was accurate.

"Hey, hey, hey, what is this? You are gonna break my fountain!" The owner of the establishment rushed over, the health department threat forgotten for the moment at the sight of the crowbar and hammer.

"Sir, I don't want to slap you with a 44/16, but I will," the younger Winchester bluffed and Crowley was surprised that actually worked. Humans were rather gullible.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, Crowley's demonic instincts kicking in suddenly, and he turned his attention away from the duo. He tilted his head to the side. Here lately there were too many angels flitting about and he had learned to sense them. Crowley could only assume the approaching angel was the one with the overcoat that seemed to be attached to the Winchesters.

He wasn't going to wait around to find out.

* * *

><p>Frowning slightly, Gabriel watched the demon vanish. It seemed strange that a demon would just be hanging around playing Peeping Tom. (He blissfully ignored the fact he was doing the same.) He could have done a bit of smiting but Gabriel was intrigued and he never had been the wrath of God type, anyway. He made a mental note to check out the demon in the suit later.<p>

Right now, there was a show going on that was almost as good as something he would have come up with. He should have brought popcorn.

Crowley stood in the corner of the room, leaning against the wall and casually picking at his nails. Blending into the background was an essential skill if you wanted to climb your way to the top without getting too much blood on your hands. People were more likely to talk in front of the butler if they forgot he was there. At the moment, he was listening as Lilith and Ruby discussed their current plan.

"I want that girl, Ruby," said Lilith. "She would be useful. We could know everything the angels do!"

"I know but I can't get involved. It might blow my cover. Sam trusts me but Dean-"

"If I might interject for a moment," Crowley said. Ruby glared at him and he gave her a smile that was anything but friendly.

"Yes, Crowley?" Lilith asked brightly.

"Ruby's situation is delicate. The Winchesters barely trust her and there isn't anyone in Hell besides those in this room that doesn't believe she's a traitor. Perhaps it would be best to use this opportunity to further ingrain her to the Winchesters?"

"What did you have in mind?"

Crowley spread his hands palms up out in front of him.

"Simple. Ruby goes to the Winchesters with the information about the girl." He nodded in the direction of the still frowning woman. "They'll see she's actively working against us. Then we let things unfold as they may."

"Oh, so I go stick my neck out while you sit back. What happens when the demons sent to collect her show? Because they will." Ruby looked to Lilith for confirmation. The little girl's face was serious with thought.

When Lilith didn't answer, Crowley continued.

"They already believe you're a traitor. That won't change; it can't. You do what you always do and survive. Surely you can handle that."

Ruby noticed the sarcastic tone and started forward but stopped with Lilith help up a small hand.

"I like this idea. Good work, Mr. Crowley."

Crowley smiled and studiously ignored Ruby as she rolled her eyes.

"Fine. I'll go tip them off once we have the girl's location."

"Goodie! Make sure you keep their trust, Ruby."

Nodding in understanding, Ruby shot Crowley one final glare before she turned on the spot and vanished.

"Oh, this is getting exciting. We're so close."

"Indeed," agreed Crowley who had been keeping a mental tally of the seals and did not share Lilith's enthusiasm. "Will you be needing anything else, love?"

She shook her head. "They brought me some new toys to play with."

"You have fun with that. I have some business to finish up."

Crowley left as quickly as he could. For years, he had been happy to just bide his time. Now the inactivity was gnawing at him. The only thing he could do was keep an eye on the Winchesters and hope some sort of opportunity presented itself which would be a miracle. So far it hadn't.

What had presented itself was the vague sense he was being watched. A few times Crowley had felt the same angelic presence he had on that first day. He could assume it was the same; he never stuck around to find out. This time when he popped in on the Winchesters, Crowley felt it immediately. The demon froze. There was no blinding light and no figured appeared. Part of him wanted to attempt to flush out the spy but he wasn't that stupid. Glancing around one last time, Crowley disappeared into the shadows.

* * *

><p>It was a fun little game of cat-and-mouse, Gabriel thought. The demon was smart. From his experience, he knew most demons couldn't tell an archangel from a pagan god. This one at least seemed to be able to tell something was up. Gabriel's interest had been peaked but he was growing bored. It was time to take things to the next level and visit the demon on his home turf.<p>

Gabriel had learned a thing or two about demons over the years, probably more than most angels. Typically, they were all just about the same. He had never heard of one living in a sumptuously appointed mansion. Well. There was a first time for everything. Gabriel walked up to the house and let himself in. The place was nice, if a bit stuffy for the angel's taste. As he sauntered down the hall, he trailed his hand along the wall not caring if a picture or two got in the way. He came to the kitchen and whistled.

"Suh-weet," he exclaimed to the empty space then headed straight to the stainless steel refrigerator.

Digging around, Gabriel found what appeared to be a chocolate raspberry mousse cake. He was starting to like this demon. He helped himself to a generous slice and, eschewing the kitchen stools, hopped up to sit on the granite countertop.

If he was going to have to wait, he might as well make himself at home.

* * *

><p>Crowley knew as soon as he stepped into the house that something was wrong. He would have known even if it hadn't been for the crooked pictures on the wall. Even with a possible intruder in the house, there were some things Crowley couldn't over-look. Scrupulously, he straightened the pictures and then continued down the hall.<p>

In the centuries since he became a demon, Crowley had seen a lot. He was prepared to find almost anything in his kitchen.

Almost anything except what was actually waiting for him.

Sitting on the counter with legs dangling and stuffing his face with the cake Crowley had baked was a man with blonde hair. It was the angel; there was no doubt about that. Crowley felt it in every fiber of his being. And looking at the lop-sided grin the angel was giving him, Crowley also felt this was one of the few times he could stand in the same room with an angel and not fear for his life.

"You've made yourself at home." It was the only thing Crowley could think of to say.

"Mm-hm," the intruder said around a mouthful of cake. He swallowed. "This is good cake."

"Thank you. I made it myself."

"Really?" The angel raised an eyebrow. "Hmm."

"Who are you and why are you in my house?" Crowley asked getting straight to the point.

"Because you've been snooping around the Winchesters. Kind of caught my attention."

"Ah, right. Who are you?"

The man slid off the counter and Crowley found himself noting he was shorter than the demon by a couple inches. He vaguely wondered why he did.

"Gabriel. And you?"

"Gabriel," he repeated, not completely able to keep the stutter from his voice. "There's a bloody archangel in my kitchen."

"Yup! Can I have another piece of that cake?" he asked without waiting for an answer.

Crowley stared incredulously as he began helping himself to the contents of the entire fridge. He debated telling Gabriel to get out of his house but he somehow doubted it would work.

"Could you at least not spill my food all over my floor?" He contented himself with glaring at the angel.

"Oops. So what do they call you? Or should I make something up? How about Sugar-britches?"

"No." Crowley paused. He had been in a lot of odd and dangerous situations but this one took the cake, excuse the pun. An archangel could easily destroy him but instead he was just leaning against the fridge, smirking at him. Crowley weighed his options.

Finally he said, "Crowley."

"Crowley," Gabriel said as if tasting it. "I kinda like sugar-britches better."

The demon stared at him, mouth partially open.

"Anyway!" I gotta jet," he said when Crowley remained silently fuming. "See you around."

Once the angel left, Crowley stood quietly in the kitchen for a good while. After a bit he shook his head and brushed his suit off.

"Insane," he muttered. "That angel is insane."

The addition of archangel into Crowley's life was not one even the always prepared demon quite knew how to handle. Crowley was pragmatic, though, and as soon as Gabriel had left his kitchen, Crowley began thinking of ways to use it to his advantage. If Gabriel was for the Apocalypse, his best bet was to avoid the angel. Considering the fact he hadn't killed Crowley, his assumption was that at the very least Gabriel was on the fence about the whole thing. An archangel on your side could be useful.

(It would be erroneous to think that Crowley was the only one thinking of how to turn this new acquaintance to his advantage. The only difference was that while Crowley's thoughts were on how to stop the Apocalypse, Gabriel's were on how to convince the demon to bake for him.)

Crowley's one real issue with attempting an arrangement was that Gabriel was, in his mind, at the best unstable and at worst a complete nutter even for an angel. Still desperate times called for desperate measures and Crowley had a knack for making things go his way even when they shouldn't. He had no intention of going out of his way to initiate anything, however.

Right now was not exactly the best time to have an archangel start hanging around him.

Crowley really should have forwarded that memo.


	2. Chapter 2

***Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or it's characters. Because the show would be much like this if I did. Warning here for m/f.

* * *

><p><strong>Black and Gold<strong>

_Chapter Two_

"I got tortured," Ruby spat, her anger directed at Crowley. "By Alastair!"

Crowley stifled a yawn.

"You know what _that's_ like, don't you Crowley?" Her lips were curled into a sneer.

He tensed, hands clenching into fists, but he said nothing. As attempts to get a rise out of him went, this was a good one. Crowley worked to ignore her.

"What's the matter, Crowley? Left your tongue on the torture room floor?"

"Did Alastair cut out what little sense you had left, Ruby?" he asked as calmly as he could.

"Enough!" Lilith said glaring at the both of them. She smoothed her dress and folded her hands on her lap.

Crowley and Ruby fell silent, waiting for her to speak.

"I am not very happy right now. Crowley." She turned her gaze to him. "Your plan failed. We lost the girl and we lost people. I think you should be punished."

Licking his lips, Crowley shifted on his feet.

"Now, love. We may have lost the girl but people can be replaced and if Ruby played her part…"

"I played my part, you…"

"Then the Winchesters should trust you even more," he said, talking over Ruby.

"Do they?" asked Lilith.

"Yes," Ruby said grudgingly.

"See? We're still winning over-all. One battle does not make a war." It was a testament to Crowley's salesmanship that Lilith at least seemed to be buying his pitch. The optimism on his part wasn't entirely faked. If his plan had worked exactly how he wanted, the girl would be out of Lilith's hands and Ruby would be dead. One out of two wasn't bad. Now he had to keep Lilith from putting his head on a pike. Literally.

"That is a good thing." Lilith frowned in thought. "Still, I can't just let you walk away without repercussions."

It was simple enough for a demon like Lilith to hurt him. All it took was a single gesture and Crowley was on his knees. Pain shot through his entire body. He could feel it from the tips of his fingers to his teeth. The sensation was one of being pulled apart piece by piece from the inside. His fingers dug into the carpet and his vision went black. He was distantly aware of a voice laughing. That coupled with the pain and humiliation only served to fan the flames of anger. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the pain began to fade leaving a dull throb. Crowley wiped a hand across his mouth and noted the blood. He looked up to see Lilith standing above him, smiling.

"Oh, Crowley," she said gently stroking his cheek. "I don't like having to hurt you. Don't make me do it again."

"Yes, Lilith." Outwardly, it looked like an act of contrition as he bowed his head. Inwardly, Crowley wished he could be the one to kill her.

"Good." She bent down and kissed his forehead. "You're still my favorite. You can go."

Crowley stood unsteadily, trying not to appear weak. Ruby was watching him like a hawk with a satisfied smirk on her face. He pictured gutting her and the thought made him smile. For a moment he was unsure if he would be able to travel in the typical fashion or if he'd be forced to take more mundane means of transportation but Crowley finally felt himself slip into the shadows after a bit of effort. Any other time this would be completely routine but he was struggling to control the flow of the shadows. It seemed a miracle when he landed, coughing, on the floor in his living room.

* * *

><p>Gabriel's apartment couldn't be more different from Crowley's home if someone had designed them to be polar opposites. It very much seemed as they had been. The apartment was like a shrine to 70s kitsch, complete with disco ball. Crowley would have had a heart attack from the shag carpet alone. In Gabriel's mind it was the height of interior décor and Martha Stewart could bite him.<p>

The angel himself was lounging in his favorite chair, munching on popcorn, and trying to watch TV; trying because nothing really was catching his attention. He had tried watching the kind of crappy sci-fi movies that he got a lot of his ideas from. Then he tried to watch one of those cooking shows where the chef yells a lot but it only made him hungry. There was a feeling creeping up on him that Gabriel was familiar with but dreaded completely. He was bored.

Sighing, he flipped through the channels once again.

"Four hundred channels and nothing's on," he grumbled, tossing the remote down on the table.

If Gabriel was honest, part of his problem was the majority of his thoughts were centered on a demon in a suit. Crowley was the most interesting thing going on right now in his life. (He could have always gone and pestered the pagans but after his falling out with Kali that left him more than a little singed he was avoiding that.) Which really just left Crowley.

And he _did_ make a damn good cake.

Gabriel made a lot of his decisions based on food.

He decided it was time to pay Crowley another visit.

* * *

><p>The punishment from Lilith coupled with the exertion of teleporting back home had drained Crowley. He was still in the middle of his living room floor on his hands and knees. Every time he attempted to stand, the room spun and he ended up back on the floor. It was one of the most humiliating things he had experienced in a long time. <em>At least no one is around to see<em>, Crowley thought.

As if on cue, Gabriel appeared in the room. He felt the angel before he heard him speak.

"Wow," Gabriel said with a slight tone of worry in his voice. "You look like hell."

"Thank you," he gritted through his teeth, glaring up at the angel.

"You're welcome. Need some help?" he asked.

"No," Crowley answered on instinct. He paused and considered the situation. "Yes."

Gabriel put an arm around Crowley's shoulders and helped him to the closest chair. He sat down with a sigh and closed his eyes for a moment. The angel watched him with a raised eyebrow.

"So, what happened to you?"

"Disciplinary action. I happened to anger my superior," Crowley said matter-of-factly.

"That seems a little harsh if you just spilled someone's coffee or something."

"It was a little worse than that. And they _are_ demons, darling."

"True," Gabriel said, sticking his bottom lip out in thought and plopping down on the couch. Crowley eyed him warily. "I remember what the pagans were like."

"I don't want to know how an angel knows that."

"Well, see, I skipped out of Heaven and decided to join up with the pagans and convince them I was one of them."

Crowley sighed again.

"I said I didn't want to know."

"I know. I ignored you."

"Imagine my shock and surprise."

"Don't really have to," Gabriel said, eyebrows dancing.

"Why in the name of Hell are you here?"

He shrugged, "I was bored."

A horrified look came to Crowley's face.

"Please tell me this isn't going to become a regular thing."

"Oh, come on," Gabriel said. "You have to be a little glad I showed up today."

"Hn."

"Exactly. I'm hungry." He hopped up and started towards the kitchen. "Do you have any of that cake left?"

"No!" Crowley called after him. "_You_ ate it all."

"You should bake another one," he yelled back.

Closing his eyes again, Crowley sank back into the chair.

"And I thought this day couldn't get any worse…"

* * *

><p>Sleep is not a requirement for demons or any other supernatural creature but sometimes it just felt good. For those occasions Crowley had a king size bed with the best sheets money (not his, of course) could buy. When it became clear that all his efforts to chase the angel out of his house were wasted, he had retreated to bed after admonishing Gabriel not break anything, for God's sake.<p>

The house was still standing when Crowley woke up the next morning. All the pain had subsided and he was feeling up to forcefully removing an archangel from his home. It turned out he didn't have to; Gabriel was nowhere to be found. There was also hardly any food to be found.

Crowley felt a twinge of disappointment and studiously ignored it.

There were things he had to do such as re-stock the fridge and pantry and clean up the mess the angel had made.

At least that was what Crowley had planned to do before the demon appeared in his kitchen.

"What do you want?" he growled.

"Lilith wants you," the demon said in a tone that let Crowley know somehow the news of his punishment had gotten around. "Now."

This time traveling via shadows was much easier. Crowley appeared outside the door of Lilith's room and knocked.

"Come in," a voice answered.

A young blonde woman dressed in black stood waiting for him with a smile. In the past, Crowley had seen Lilith switch bodies to a more mature one. It always made him feel at ease. Children were not something Crowley was fond of.

"Crowley," she said holding out her arms and spinning. "Do you like my new body?"

"It's lovely, darling."

"She's a dental hygienist," Lilith said coming up to him and running a hand across his chest. "I like it."

"It suits you very well."

"We should test it out," she said, kissing his jaw first and then his mouth. Crowley yielded to her. It wasn't the first time. In the game of survival, Crowley was willing to do anything needed of him. He dug his fingers into her hair as Lilith pressed against him. Crowley's thoughts were elsewhere as Lilith pulled him to the bed and he let his body's instincts take over. There was a small part in the back of Crowley's mind that he buried as deeply as he could that hated what he was doing. It would have made his skin crawl if he had let it.

It was quick and brutal, each of them taking what they needed for their own pleasure and giving little thought to the other. There were no murmured affections or even shouts of pleasure, just the rhythmic sounds of heavy breathing. The sheets were tangled and soaked with sweat as were their bodies when they collapsed to the mattress.

After, Crowley began gathering his clothes while Lilith lay in bed. His intention was to get out as soon as possible without making Lilith angry; he had just recently experienced that and didn't care to repeat it. Crowley had preparations to make and a kitchen to clean. He felt her run a finger up his spine and he turned to smile at her.

"Yes, love?" he asked.

"Crowley," she said still running her fingers up his back. "You _are_ my favorite, you know that, yes?"

The question was loaded and he knew it. He nodded in affirmation.

"There are things that worry me about you lately. Your plan with Anna failed."

"Not entirely. Ruby gained more of the Winchester's trust."

"True." She propped herself up on her elbows. "It's not just that, however. I sent you to collect the Colt from Bela and you lost it."

Crowley frowned at the memory. He had played it off as though she had taken the Colt and hidden it somewhere before he was able to get to her. That wasn't what happened. Crowley had the Colt.

Bela had given it to him in an effort to save her life. It was a deal that Crowley had no way of upholding without giving away his treachery but that didn't mean he couldn't use her.

"That was a disappointment," he said finally. His punishment for that particular mishap had been severe. "I thought I had expressed my apologies for my failure."

"Of course you did." Lilith wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him from behind. "It still troubles me."

"I don't know what else to do, love," he said trying to keep calm.

"I hope, for your sake, that I don't find out before this is all over you've betrayed me, Crowley." The soft kiss she placed on his cheek was belied by her fingers digging into the skin of his neck.

"Yes."

"Good," she said happily as she let go of him and moved away.

Crowley finished putting his clothes on and left the room. He waited until he was out of the safe house and the chill air hit him before letting out the breath he had been holding. His shoulders sagged as he began walking. Once the house had faded in the distance, he stepped into the shadows and out of the light.

* * *

><p>Few things in life could make Gabriel guilty but he did feel a little bad about the state he had left Crowley's kitchen in. He debated for a couple days about going back. Gabriel found pushing the demon's buttons enjoyable though last time he had used all the restraint he could muster. It wasn't because he felt bad since Crowley had obviously been in pain but because he wasn't up to giving Gabriel the reaction he wanted. He thought it was only fair that the demon be at full strength for their next encounter.<p>

When Gabriel popped into Crowley's living room, he was at the wet bar making himself what looked like a very strong drink. His eyes widened at the sight of Gabriel and immediately rolled their way up to the ceiling.

"Can you at least give me a warning before you break into my house?" asked Crowley in no way expecting an actual answer. He wasn't disappointed.

"That would take all the fun out of it." Gabriel leaned against the bar and watched as Crowley downed the entire drink.

"I find your definition of fun mildly disturbing," Crowley said making another drink.

"It keeps things interesting."

"For you."

Gabriel grinned, "That's the idea."

"Of course it is…" Crowley sat down on the sofa and began considering his options as he sipped his drink. "Get your feet off the table!"

The angel paused with his feet a few inches over the table, a guilty grin on his face.

"Geez," Gabriel said putting his feet on the floor. "You need to lighten up, sugar-britches."

"Stop calling me that." He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Sure thing, buttercup."

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Crowley slammed his glass down on the table harder than he intended and jumped to his feet. "Out. Now."

"But I just got here," Gabriel said with a touch of a whine.

"Yes, and now you're leaving."

"Mm. I don't wanna."

If this was a cartoon, Crowley's face would be bright red and smoke would be coming out of his ears. He settled for glaring at Gabriel and draining his Scotch. Obviously shouting wasn't going to work with the angel. It was time to try another tactic; the silent treatment. It worked on obnoxious two year-olds and while Crowley's experience in that area was limited, he could only assume they were about the same.

"Fine," Crowley said sitting back down with the intention of saying nothing for the rest of the night.

Gabriel, on the other hand, was not so inhibited and he had a lot of stories. He proceeded to regale Crowley with them. He talked about everything from his time in Heaven to his and Kali's sex life (Crowley found himself listening more intently to those bits than needed). Crowley was beginning to think that perhaps this plan wouldn't work. The angel was an expert at talking; you only had to ask the Virgin Mary about the night she found out she was knocked up with God's kid. It was nothing like what happened in the Bible. Looking at the nearly empty bottle of liquor, Crowley made a mental note to stock up. He was also considering attempting to knock Gabriel out with the bottle when he said something that caught Crowley's attention.

"Wait." He held up a finger. "Did you really put Dean Winchester in a time loop where he died every day?"

"Oh yeah. Botulism from a taco was my personal favorite."

Crowley gave an involuntary snort of laughter.

"You're creative at annoying people, I'll give you that," he admitted.

"It's a talent I like to put to good use."

"I can see that," said Crowley standing up and taking the bottle to the trash. He turned back to face Gabriel and leaned against the kitchen doorway. "Can I trust you not to break anything if I go to sleep?"

"Hey," Gabriel said with a hurt look that was ninety percent faked and ten percent real. "I didn't break anything last time."

He narrowed his eyes and said, "Let's keep it that way."

The thought that trusting the angel in his house probably wasn't the wisest idea crossed Crowley's mind and followed him up to bed but last time had gone fine, really, and the past few weeks had been hard on him.

A loud beeping noise woke Crowley up the next morning and the first thing he did was curse Gabriel, himself, and the makers of fire alarms. The second thing he did was jump out of bed and rush down the stairs and into the kitchen. Smoke filled the room. Gabriel was waving a dish towel over the stove. Something black and smoldering was sitting on top of it. As soon as Crowley stepped into the kitchen, Gabriel turned towards him with a huge, sheepish grin.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Crowley yelled.

"I was making you breakfast." Gabriel picked up the skillet and held it in his direction. "Pancakes."

"Pancakes? You decided to make pancakes?" he said through gritted teeth.

"I thought I'd be nice," said Gabriel.

"By burning down my _house_?"

"I didn't burn it down. There was just a small fire."

Crowley looked at the angel standing in his kitchen then snapped his fingers. The fire alarm exploded and the beeping died. He snatched an apron off a hook on the wall and put it on over the t-shirt and boxers he was still wearing.

"Just…let me handle this," Crowley said waving the new skillet he pulled out at Gabriel.

"Alright, alright!" Gabriel took his usual seat on the countertop. "This is your show."

"You're damn right it is."

Gabriel watched the demon meticulously line up the ingredients and measure them out. He decided against pointing out the fact Crowley seemed to be humming Frank Sinatra under his breath.

"I never thought a demon would cook," said Gabriel after remaining silent as long as he could. (This was about five minutes. The record still was the time Michael and Raphael stole his horn and wouldn't give it back unless he was quiet for an hour. Gabriel had lasted thirty minutes and decided the horn wasn't worth it.)

"Everyone has their hobbies," Crowley grumbled as he flipped the pancakes.

"Yeah, but I expected your hobbies to be feeding people to hellhounds or taking long strolls through the fires of Hell," Gabriel said moving to peek over the demon's shoulder.

"I do those things as well." Crowley pulled the skillet from the stove and Gabriel had to jump back to avoid being hit by it.

"And make pancakes." Gabriel cocked an eyebrow.

"At least make yourself useful and start setting the table. The plates are there," he said ignoring Gabriel's tone of disbelief and pointed to a cabinet.

"You know," Gabriel said after he had set the table and they were sitting down, "this could be the start of a bad joke. An angel and a demon…"

Crowley forcefully jabbed a piece of pancake on his plate. "I thought this _was_ a bad joke."

"Nah, but I know some great ones."

"It's pointless to ask you not to tell them, isn't it?

"Oh yeah," Gabriel said around a mouthful of food. "So the Twelve Apostles go to a strip club…"

Gabriel was right; the scene in the kitchen could have been the start of a bad joke. Crowley wondered what was becoming of his life and tried to keep any hint of amusement off his face. It ended up being more of a challenge than he had expected it to be. They sat at the table for the rest of the morning and if Gabriel convinced Crowley to tell a joke or two he picked up in Hell, he would never admit it later.


	3. Chapter 3

***Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or its characters. Obviously.

* * *

><p><strong>Black and Gold<strong>

_Chapter Three_

"You know," Gabriel said as he lounged on the couch, "I never ask you about your work."

"Hn," Crowley answered and turned up the volume on the documentary he was trying to watch.

Crowley had given up at attempting to get rid of the angel. He had decided on their second meeting that Gabriel was too flighty to put any amount of trust in him especially in regards to the Apocalypse; he barely trusted him alone in the house. That being a concern, Crowley had resorted to putting Enochian sigils on the outside of his home. That had had the unwanted effect of Crowley being woken at 2 a.m. to the dulcet tones of Brian Adams. Crowley had considered setting the hellhound on him but would have felt bad (for the hound, not the angel) and let him in. It was the beginning of the end.

"You never ask me about my work," Gabriel continued without a pause.

Crowley looked away from the T.V. and said, "You don't work."

"I do! You would know if you asked me about it."

"Gluing someone's butt-cheeks to the toilet seat is not work."

Gabriel considered this for a moment and shrugged. "I enjoy what I do."

"Clearly."

"I just feel like we should talk more."

"I believe you have that aspect covered for the both of us, darling."

"Well, _yeah_, but what about you? What do you do, Crowles?"

He sighed in resignation. "Currently? Damning souls to Hell and working to help bring about the Apocalypse, for all appearances, anyway."

"For all appearances?" Gabriel narrowed his eyes briefly and then grinned widely. "Crowley, you sly dog. Why so?"

"I'd rather the world not end."

"I never pegged you for a humanitarian."

"I'm not," Crowley said finally giving up and turning off the television. "My motives are purely selfish, I assure you. I like living."

Crowley watched as Gabriel stretched out across the couch like a cat, completely ignoring Crowley's rule about shoes on the furniture. There were some things that weren't worth arguing with the angel about.

"Honestly, I don't care one way or another. I've had enough of my brothers' cosmic bitch-fight."

"I'm not really surprised," Crowley said and raised an eyebrow at Gabriel, contradicting his words. He _was_ surprised that the fun-loving angel had such a fatalistic attitude.

"Hey, we can't agree on everything," Gabriel said finding a bright side.

"Oh, believe me, I'm well aware that we don't."

"You know what they say about opposites and attraction."

Indignation was written all over Crowley's face.

"I never! There is no attraction… Bloody angels." He got to his feet and brushed imaginary dirt off the sleeve of his suit. Turning a glare on Gabriel, he pointed a finger at the smug grin. "Don't you get any ideas."

"I wouldn't dream of it," said Gabriel in a tone of voice that distinctly implied he had dreamed of it and in excruciating detail. Crowley snorted and retreated to his bedroom which was the one place Gabriel hadn't violated so far. The sound of laughter followed him up the stairs.

* * *

><p>The beginning of the end was coming. Crowley wasn't really the type for dramatics but as he paced the room, he figured the Apocalypse starting was a good time for some. The muted colors of the hotel room seemed to close in on him. He was supposed to be at St. Mary's Covenant with Lilith and the others. By now he was sure she had noted his absence but as long as Crowley made it past midnight Lilith wouldn't be a concern. Lucifer, on the other hand, was a whole other story.<p>

Red light from the digital clock filled the dark room. It read 11:56. Four minutes and Crowley would start setting his plan to stop Lucifer into motion. It was a flimsy plan, in the grand scheme of things. One little gun against the Devil. A small chuckle escaped Crowley's lips as he looked back at the clock. 11:58. He stopped pacing for a bit and listened. The only noise was the TVs from the adjoining rooms. Crowley walked away from the window and back to the dresser which was lined with tiny bottles of alcohol. Clicking a few together, he wished they weren't empty and thought, _if wishes were hellhounds._

The numbers on the clock flipped over and practically blared the change of the hour. He wasn't sure what he had expected to happen; maybe the skies to start raining brimstone or rivers of blood to fill the streets. Nothing seemed to change. The world continued to spin five minutes past midnight. Crowley felt an odd mixture of relief and panic bubbling inside of him. For once, he was at a loss.

"You look like Hell," Gabriel said appearing on the bed suddenly. He didn't look much better. The shirt he wore was wrinkled and his hair was tousled.

"So do you, love."

"Well, my brother just busted out of his cage and they're getting ready for Celebrity Death Match: Apocalypse Edition. So, yeah."

Crowley's lips curled in a half smile and he resumed pacing.

"Right, right. Now I just have to make sure no one has figured out I'm working against them and come up with a way to hamstring upper management. Which, by the way," he said turning to Gabriel and getting more worked up as he went on, "will be a miracle. They may be demons but they're not completely stupid."

"Crowley…"

"If I survive this… And that's a big if because I still have Lucifer to deal with." His back was to Gabriel and he had started talking with his hands (a sure sign of agitation, the angel had learned) as he walked toward the window.

"Crowley," said Gabriel getting up from the bed.

"Rather, I'll need to find someone to deal with him for me. Most likely the Winchesters but fat luck getting them to trust me after Ruby." He turned around and almost ran into Gabriel.

"Crowley."

"What?" he asked. In his worked up state, he ignored the fact Gabriel had grabbed him by the shoulders. "Do you know how _hard_ this will be?"

He never got the chance to tell Gabriel exactly how hard it would be because his mouth was suddenly being occupied by an archangel's tongue. Crowley's eyes widened and he was shocked out of being able to protest.

"You are the hardest person to get to shut up," Gabriel said breaking the kiss.

Color began rising in Crowley's formerly white cheeks and his mouth hung partially open. Before his mind had been racing with thoughts; now it was completely blank. It really shouldn't have come as a surprise all things considered but Crowley had been looking at the whole thing from the wrong angle.

"So you kissed me," Crowley said after a moment.

"It worked," grinned Gabriel.

"Who am I to argue with results?" he mused.

The second time Gabriel moved into kiss him, Crowley was prepared. As a crossroads demon he was no stranger to kissing in general. Those kisses were business, however, and most people were repulsed by the thought of kissing a demon let alone the actual act. Gabriel was the first person in a very long time (because Crowley didn't count Lilith) not to pull away in disgust. It tasted coppery and sweet like sugar and he could _feel_ Gabriel's smile.

Gabriel was also no stranger to kissing either, though, besides Kali, he hadn't been kissing much other than his little creations. While life-like, they didn't have the heat of Crowley's kiss. It was unnatural and Gabriel could feel the hellfire pulsing under his fingers which had made their way to the demon's neck. The kiss was alive in a way that he, in all his millennia on Earth, had never experienced before and didn't really want to end.

Finally and slowly the two parted. They both were flushed and Crowley fidgeted with his tie as Gabriel flung himself on the bed with a satisfied grin. Crowley gave him a side-long glance.

"I'm never going to get rid of you know, am I?" he asked.

"Admit it. You don't want to."

The silence that followed was damning.

* * *

><p>Waking up with approximately a hundred and fifty pounds of angel flesh on top of you and snoring blissfully in your ear was not Crowley's ideal way to start the morning. He liked a nice cup of tea and the morning paper. Instead, he wiped the drool -not his- off his cheek and put on a pot of complimentary motel room coffee. Once he fixed a cup of black sludge, Crowley began attempting to wake Gabriel. Poking him in the side had no effect neither did pulling off the blankets or shouting his name. He decided to take a more drastic approach and set the hem of Gabriel's shirt on fire.<p>

It took the angel a moment to wake up and notice what was wrong. Gabriel had never gotten out of a bed he was actually sleeping in so quickly before in his life. He patted out the flames and looked around bleary-eyed for the culprit. Crowley was chuckling silently into his coffee.

"Morning, sunshine," Crowley said. Gabriel turned from five-feet-seven inches of angelic wrath to talking Golden Retriever in less than three seconds.

"Ha ha, very funny," he said smiling. "You could've asked me to get up instead of setting me on fire."

"I did. This was a last resort." Crowley set his empty mug down on the table. "Anyway, I have business to take care of."

Gabriel's eyebrows rose. "Yeah? I thought you were worried about the whole turncoat thing?"

"Technically, I haven't done anything. It's a matter of getting in and tying up a few loose ends before people start suspecting." Crowley was adamantly hoping it would be that easy. His uneasiness about the whole thing didn't escape Gabriel's notice; he had spent enough time around Crowley to pick up on the little quirks.

"Just be careful, Crowles," he said.

A small smile crept across Crowley's face and he leaned over to kiss Gabriel lightly.

"I always am."


End file.
